


Hope

by spndrea



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Depression, Experimental Style, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I never write sad stuff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 02:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spndrea/pseuds/spndrea
Summary: There were good days.And then there were bad days.





	Hope

There were good days.

There were good days, where Hansol sat in the living room with his band members, laughing and playing seemingly endless rounds of Mario Kart while trying not to scream too loud as he was continuously bashed with red shells.

Good days, where Hansol went out and greeted the world with an honest smile plastered on his face while walking through the nearby park, music blasting through his ears or chatter never dying on his lips.

Even _amazing_ days, where Hansol strolled through the dark corners of Gangnam, hand clasped tightly over Joshua’s, never intending to let go while they were pushing and pulling each other through the dark streets, uncaring of any lingering gazes while their laughter made promise after promise to the night sky.

It was the little things that made Hansol push through the bad days.

Little things, like the muted sounds of clashing and banging cutlery or quiet shuffling of feet that swept through the dorm at all hours of day and night, never once leaving him in silence with his thoughts.

Or like the warm breath fanning over the back of his neck in the darkness of his room, paired up with the long arms embracing his smaller frame from behind as Joshua’s soft voice managed to lull him into a peaceful sleep.

But even all that wasn’t always enough.

The days where Hansol couldn’t get out of bed, where his members kept channeling worried, pitying looks at him but never daring to speak up about it out of fear of _breaking_ Hansol even more. Those days stuck with him more than the _good days_.

It wasn’t the days where Hansol was nearly convinced that he wouldn’t need those god-awful pills anymore to feel better. Not the days where Hansol was the one requesting to go bowling as a 13-member group. Not the days where he could tell his Therapist about how he _thought he’d gotten better_.

It was the days where he considered chugging the whole god-awful content of the orange bottle on his nightstand. The days where he wouldn’t even answer Joshua’s soft voice when asked if he had any preferences of what they could be doing on their day-off. The days where he broke down in Joshua’s arms because _he wasn’t getting better_. 

It’s those days that get stuck in his brain the most.

It scared him.

It scared him, the thought of never getting better. Of having to live off god-awful pills forever. Of having his members be extra careful around him at the beginning of each day while waiting for Joshua to figure out if it was going to be a good day or a bad one for Hansol.

It made him angry. Mainly at himself, for not being able to function normally despite having everything and more anyone could ever wish for.

Angry at himself for making his best friends think they have to behave differently, _carefully_ , while in his presence. 

But most of all, it all exhausts him.

It exhausts him to force a smile on demand while being dragged to fan signs or concerts by the bands’ managers. Pains him to act as something he’s not.

_Smile, Vernon!_

_Who are you most thankful for to live such a privileged life?_

_Wow, you’ve gotten awfully arrogant._

_Don’t you care at all?_

He doesn’t. But he _does_.

He _cares_ that he burdens the whole team with his temper. He _cares_ that he makes Joshua paint on his happy face in public, too.

He _cares_ , because it’s the only thing that makes him feel something.

It makes him feel, well, _disappointed_ , for one thing, but also incredibly aspired to _pull through_. To make his members proud. To make _Joshua_ proud.

Because the twinkle in Joshua’s eyes when Hansol stumbles out of their shared room into the kitchen to greet him with a soft kiss to the cheek on a day where Hansol originally nodded in confirmation to the _"that kind of day?"_ question makes his heart swell with unadorned pride.

It makes him want to see more of Joshua’s big smile and soft laugh that Hansol himself had caused, because that’s what makes him want to _get better_. 

That’s what makes him feel like _himself_ again.

Joshua’s breathy laugh and wide eyes as Hansol sneaks up on him in the kitchen, only to poke his sides to make the other turn around and let out an exaggerated call of his name before breaking into giggles right along with the younger man, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and only pulling back when the other members could be heard piling out of their rooms into the kitchen.

That’s what completes Hansol while he’s breaking apart.

Because next to cold disappointment and warm pride, Joshua makes Hansol feel hope. _Inspiration_.

Because on the days where Hansol will stare at his soggy cereal or his apathic reflection in the black coffee in front of him, Joshua will sit down next to him, their sides touching from shoulders to thighs while the older man would begin to talk to Hansol about everything and nothing until, eventually, Hansol will either crack a smile or shed a tear, but no matter what, Joshua would always be right there to either make Hansol give a wholehearted laugh or wrap him in a tight hug full of promises and _hope_.

It wasn’t easy, Hansol wasn’t going to deny that. _Hasn’t_ denied it since he acknowledged the battle fate has decided to throw his way. But somehow, while watching Joshua’s eyes shine in the moon-illuminated room after Hansol recovered from laughing so hard his stomach ached, it seemed to become easier and easier with each breath, each laugh or each kiss they shared. 

And maybe things won’t be alright in the long run, but Hansol feels like there’s a good enough chance that they will be when he has Joshua’s heartbeat against his chest and his long arms around his waist and he decides in that moment that he won’t stop wanting to see good days with Joshua’s proud, twinkling eyes directed solemnly at him.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything like this, but I really wanted to try out new things with my writing and this is where it took me.
> 
> Still, I'm really sorry if this sucks!
> 
> (I'm on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/spndrea), by the way)


End file.
